


Pancakes and Kisses

by Hacereadsenochian (Grannahreadsenochian)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chef!Dean, Fluff, M/M, lisa and ben feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3657804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grannahreadsenochian/pseuds/Hacereadsenochian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas makes pancakes for Dean and then drops a bomb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes and Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Written by the lovely Han <3  
> 

  
Dean wandered out into the kitchen in his checkered sweatpants and grey 

t-shirt and fell into his chair, squinting at the bright light. 

    "Hey, mr. sleepyhead." Dean looked up, his face contorted into a not quite supermodel expression, not having expected Cas to be at the stove, in slippers and a very nice form fitting t-shirt, his hair messy. 

    "Sleepy head?" He grunted. 

    "It's a pet name." Cas smiled that little puppy dog smile. "I was, trying to imply some familiarity. I thought, after so long, it was appropriate-"

    "Cas, stop talking." Dean rubbed his face. "Are you making  _pancakes_?" 

    "It was an attempt at-"

    "Never mind." Dean stood and went over to Cas, wrapping his arms around Cas in a back hug. He rested his head on Cas's shoulder and peered at the pan on the stove. He made that "not bad" face, but didn't say anything. 

    "What Kind?" He asked. 

    "I- Um. The pan fried kind?" 

    "Oh. Great." Dean pulled away and went over to the cupboard. He rooted through the shelves for a while, finally emerging triumphantly with a crumpled up, half empty bag of chocolate chips,  tied shut with a twisty tie worn down to the bare wire. 

    "Chocolate chips?" Cas asked as Dean opened the bag and sprinkled a handful into the batter and onto the pancakes already cooking on the skillet. "Dean, do you really think that's wise? I don't want to ruin the-"

    "Ruin?" Dean chuckled. "Try it before you judge it." Hesitantly Cas flipped the pancakes a final time and, deeming them done, transferred them to a plate. All the while Dean stood next to him, arm around his waist. 

    "I don't understand." Cas said after his first bite, looking at the computer balanced precariously next to the stove on a pile of soggy cookbooks. "Why didn't Martha Stewart include these in her recipe?" He pulled away from Dean and clicked through the site, muttering to himself as the cursor moved wildly across the screen. He eventually got control of it again.    

    Dean, in the mean time, moved on to the mixing bowl, dipping his finger in and sucking the batter off loudly. With an expression of utmost concentration he added a dash of salt and a few drops of vanilla, his eyebrows rising dangerously and his mouth opening in distress as the liquid spurted out uncontrollably. He straightened the bottle and pulled out quickly, catching a drip with his finger. He licked it off and made a face, gently stirring the batter. Content with the mix this time, he dipped the ladle into the bowl and poured three even puddles of thin white  stuff into the hot pan. It sizzled delightfully. Cas turned back and hummed thoughtfully. 

    "See that?" Dean said, adding another scoop to the pan, finishing three more. 

    "You have an expert hand, Dean." Cas said with an appreciative grunt. "I assume you have experience with this sort of thing." 

    "Well, when you're taking care of yourself and a kid brother for most of your life, you learn how to make some darned good pancakes." Dean said, smirking a bit at Cas's compliment. 

    "I imagine living with Ben and Lisa didn't hurt either." Cas added nonchalantly. Dean cleared his throat. 

    "Yeah. That too." 

     Cas moved on, oblivious. "This, ah, recipe," He said, scrolling through "[MarthaStewart.com](http://marthastewart.com/)". "It lacks your "Flair"" He chuckled, proud at his use of the word. He put his hands around Dean's waist, his lips finding Dean's without a second thought. He tasted like... chocolate.

     "mm." Cas said. "You know, they say that if you like the taste of a mans-"

     "Is something burning?" Dean suddenly asked, as the smell of something burning did indeed fill Cas's nostrils. Dean fumbled for the spatula and slid the pan off the burner and onto the stove top. "Dammit." He scraped the pancakes up and tried to flip them. They ended up making a burnt, gooey mess in the pan. "Well," Dean chuckled, at a loss for words. He went over to the sink and started running his hand under the cold water. 

    "Did you burn yourself?" Cas asked. 

    "Nah, it's fine." Dean assured him. Cas wasn't buying it. He went over and took Dean's hand, gently kissing his palm. It healed instantly, and he took Dean's face in his hands again and kissed him tenderly.

    "Is something burning?" Sam shuffled into the kitchen, his hair a mess. Dean pulled away quickly and pretended he hadn't just been making out with the angel. 

    "Um, that's just Dean's pancakes." Cas said, smiling at Sam. "He said he was a good cook." Dean grumbled to himself as he scraped the contents of the pan into their trash. 

    "Not when he's distracted." Sam commented slyly, sitting in the seat Dean had sat in earlier. He ran his hands through his hair and it settled into it's shiny mane of majesticness. Cas's smile widened and he turned awkwardly to look at Dean, who hunched over the pan again, carefully pouring more batter into the clean pan. 

    "Whatever, I make great pancakes." He grumbled. Cas went over to stand beside him, resting his hand on the small of his back. 

    "I'm sure you do." He soothed his precious squirrel. 

    Sam rolled his eyes and sipped his morning coffee. He grimaced "I suppose he made the coffee too?"

 


End file.
